For Your Love

Chapter 22 - Part of Me

I am her love, I am her hatred. I am her joy and I am her loathing and her abhorrence. I am her unrequited passions. I am her guilt and her remembrance. I am her beautiful despair. I am the futility of all her wishes. Out of blood and tears and ink, she made me. And I will never leave her.

~ Draco Veritas, Ch. 17 by Cassandra Clare

"Hermione? Hermione!" Draco whispered, crouching down next to her still form. "C'mon, it wasn't that bad of a blow," he said desperately, brushing the hair out of her face. He'd had no choice but to Obliviate her for what she knew, but a panic was starting to rise in his chest at the sight of her limp body. "Damn it, Granger, wake up!"

Hermione stirred and her eyes opened groggily. She looked around, confused at first, then startled to find Draco hovering over her. She sat up too quickly and brought a hand to her head. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Draco said casually, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief. "One minute we're talking and the next you're lying in a heap on the floor. Really, Granger, there are easier ways to get my attention." He took her arm and helped her stand.

Hermione rubbed her head and looked at him, confused. "What were we talking about?"

Draco shrugged. "Don't you remember?"

Hermione furrowed her brow and tried to think. "I remember you coming in and sitting down, and I was reading..." She looked around the room and shook her head. "I have no idea..."

The door to the room opened behind them and Ron entered, tired and windblown from practice. He took in Malfoy's hand on Hermione's shoulder for only a moment before whipping out his wand and pointing it straight at Draco.

"What do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" he said harshly.

Draco glanced at him lazily. "Weasley, put that thing away before you hurt yourself," he said, taking a step back. "Granger fainted and I was just trying to help her up."

"You what?" Ron hurried to Hermione's side. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said. "I think I just need something to eat. I feel a bit lightheaded."

"You've been working to hard," Ron chastised. "Why don't you go down to the kitchens and I'll meet you there in a minute." He took her arm and gently pulled her away from Malfoy.

"Yes, alright," she relented. "I'll just gather my books."

"I'll do it," Ron said. "Just go."

Hermione looked apprehensively between Ron and Draco, but her aching head got the better of her and she finally moved toward the door. "Thank you," she said, glancing back over her shoulder at the boys.

"You're welcome," they answered in unison. Ron glared at Draco while the Head Boy rolled his eyes and sat down at the table again, pulling his books toward him. Ron waited until the door closed, then began to gather Hermione's things, stuffing them into her large book bag.

"What are you doing in here anyway?" Ron wanted to know.

"I wasn't aware I needed your permission to use the Prefects' Meeting Room," Draco scoffed, not looking up. "I am the Head Boy, you know."

"Don't remind me," Ron said under his breath.

Draco's jaw tightened as he fixed Ron with a defiant stare. "Look, in case you've already forgotten, it's a good thing I was here. Otherwise she'd still be lying on the floor passed out cold. So why don't you stop your whinging and go take care of your girlfriend. Sorry... ex-girlfriend."

Ron shoved the last of Hermione's parchments into the bag and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Draco put his book down and took a deep breath. His gaze turned to the spot on the floor where Hermione had lay, and he rubbed his thumb absently over his left forearm.

* * *

The weeks passed slowly as one gray day blended into another. The first bright day of winter did not come until early February, and the students thronged onto the grounds, blinking their eyes in the sunlight. Ginny sat on the front steps of the castle watching her classmates as they bounded around on the crisp grass and tested the ice that had frozen along the edge of the lake. The past few weeks had been long and emotional for Ginny, and now she welcomed the warmth of the sun on her face. Behind her, more footsteps descend the stairs, but instead of continuing on, they stopped beside her and a cloak swished against her shoulder.

"Hi," Harry smiled down at her.

She looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun. "Hi, Harry," she said, turning her eyes back to the landscape as he sat down beside her.

"It's funny how a sunny day can change your whole outlook on life, isn't it?" he asked.

Ginny cocked an eyebrow at him. "Your outlook on life has changed?" she asked, amused.

He shook his head. "Not really. Yours?"

"Don't think so," she sighed.

"Well, I reckon we're hopeless then," he concluded. "Let's go for a walk."

Ginny bristled and glanced at him coldly. "Why, so you can tell Ron that you kept an eye on me all afternoon?"

"No," Harry said, bending down to pick at something on his shoe. "Because I'd like to take a walk with you."

"Oh," Ginny said, abashed at her own rudeness. "Alright then."

They set off across the lawn down to the lakeshore, walking along its edge until they came to the path that followed a wide stream leading from the lake to the village of Hogsmeade. They watched the water burble along under a thin layer of ice and after a few minutes, Harry chuckled softly.

"What?" Ginny asked.

"I was just remembering... we've taken this walk before," he said, smiling.

"We have?"

Harry nodded. "It was a year ago at Christmas. Do you remember? I was sitting out here on the rocks and you found me, and we walked along this path together."

Ginny thought for a moment, then her eyes lit up with the memory. "Oh, yes, I remember that! Hermione told me not to bother you."

"Did she?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Mmm," Ginny nodded. "But I did anyway."

"No," Harry smiled. "You didn't bother me."

They continued on at a leisurely pace, each remembering their own versions of that day.

"Did you know," Ginny said after a bit, "that was the first day I realized I could tell what you were feeling."

"Really? You never told me that. Why do you think it happened then?"

Ginny thought. "Maybe because your emotions were in such a jumble, they were all reaching out to be heard. You seemed so lost back then."

Harry frowned as he remembered the pain of that time just after he'd lost Sirius. "And what did they tell you?"

"I don't remember exactly. Just that you were sad. And tired."

Harry didn't respond, but kept walking slowly while Ginny's mind flashed through scenes from the past year.

"A lot has happened since then," she said.

Harry looked at her sideways and gave a small smile in agreement. "Yeah," he said. "A lot has."

"Harry?" Ginny asked, stopping and facing him.

"What?" he replied, turning to look at her.

Ginny stared at him, trying to work out what she wanted to say, and his eyes didn't leave hers as he stood waiting.

"That night at the Burrow, when you kissed me," she began. She saw the blush rise in Harry's cheeks, and he looked at the ground briefly before bringing his eyes back to hers.

"Yes?" he prompted.

"Was that..." Ginny stopped and took a breath. "Did you mean to do that, or were you just lonely because of Ellie?"

Harry paused. He had been asking himself the same question ever since that night and had not yet come up with a satisfactory answer. "Both," he said. She nodded reluctantly, as if that was the answer she'd been afraid of. "But," he said, taking a step closer to her, "I don't regret it, if that's what you're really asking."

She regarded him thoughtfully for a moment before replying, "Good," and continuing down the path. They didn't say any more until they reached the gate marking the border of the Hogwarts grounds. Harry turned to head back to the castle, but Ginny paused, leaning her arms on the stile and looking through the thick trees on the other side.

Realizing that she was not following, Harry turned around. "Aren't you coming?" he asked.

She was silent for so long that he thought maybe she hadn't heard him. Suddenly she said, "Harry, I should tell you something."

He came and stood beside her. "What is it?"

"Have you ever been past this gate, beyond the border?" she asked, pointing through the trees.

He thought for a moment. "No, I don't think I've ever been outside the border except on the road to Hogsmeade. Why?"

"Just up the side of that hill there, there's a cave."

Harry looked in the direction she was pointing, but could see nothing but thick tree trunks and foliage. "How do you know?" he asked, feeling slightly nervous of the answer.

She took a deep breath. "I've been there."

Harry's heart began to race, but he tried to stay calm. "How long ago was this?"

"The most recent time," she said, not meeting his eyes, "was last night."

Harry started in surprise and looked through the trees again. "You've been sneaking off school grounds? Ginny, do you know how completely mental that is?" he said, his voice rising. "You asked us, begged us not to hover over you and watch you all the time and we didn't! We trusted you! Did you go out there alone?"

"That's the thing," she said shakily. "I'm not always alone when I go there. Sometimes... Tom is there, too."

Harry paused in confusion. "But I thought he was always with you."

Ginny shook her head. "He is, but when we're in that cave... I can see him. I can... touch him." Her eyes finally met his and she cringed at the fire in them.

"Don't you even care what you're doing to yourself, what you're opening yourself up to by trying to do this all on your own? How many times have you gone up there?" he demanded.

Ginny's lip trembled. "Three."

"Th-," he gasped and a growl of frustration escaped him, causing Ginny to flinch.

"But it's not like before," she rushed on. "He's not using my strength to take form. It's something about that cave; he can only do it there, it hasn't happened any other time."

Harry clasped his hands behind his head and paced in a tight circle, anger, worry, guilt and adrenaline coursing through him all at once.

"Harry, I'm telling you this because I don't want to lie to you anymore," Ginny pleaded, alarmed at the way he was acting. "But it's just so complicated. I thought I was strong enough; I wanted so badly to protect all of you from him. I thought if I could keep him from doing any more harm that everything would be all right. I could stand anything, Harry, if it meant keeping you safe," she said desperately as Harry continued to pace. "I swore to myself that he wouldn't use me to get to you this time, but he's wearing me down, and I don't know how much longer I can stand it." As she spoke, she could see Harry's breathing getting heavier and his jaw clenching in anger.

"Say something," she said tentatively.

Harry shook his head, at a loss to put all of his thoughts into words. "What is it?" He finally asked in a helpless voice. "Do you still feel some kind of loyalty to him even after all he's done to you? Is that why you won't let me in? Is that why you don't trust me to go through this with you? It has to be more than just protecting me, otherwise you would have gone to someone else for help. What is it?"

Ginny hung her head, unable to forgive herself for what she was about to say. "He's the only one who knows me completely, Harry. The only one who has seen my innermost thoughts, my desires, my failings. Maybe there's a part of me that wishes there was someone else who could know me as completely as he does. But he's the only one. And when he calls me... I know I shouldn't go, Harry. I know I don't have to go. But..." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Sometimes I want to." Her face crumpled and she drew a shuddering breath. "What does that make me, for wanting to be close to something so vile, so... I'm a horrible, horrible person."

Harry's throat tightened at the sight of her. "Ginny, whatever he's told you, whatever he's tried to make you believe about yourself... it's all lies. I've seen him too, remember? You didn't see the hatred on his face. You didn't see him call that basilisk out of the Chamber. There is nothing good in him. He may be able to see into your innermost thoughts, but I know you." Harry took a step closer to her and brought her eyes up to his. "I care about you so much, I would give anything for you not to go through one more minute of this."

She blinked in surprise. "You care about me?"

"Ginny," he said with a trace of hurt in his voice. "Of course I care about you." He enveloped her in a fierce hug. "How could you not know that?" he murmured.

Ginny wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. "Oh, Harry," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I know you do, of course I know that."

They stood wrapped in each other, and Harry thought there was nothing he'd rather do than hold this girl in his arms for as long as she would let him. "No more secrets, alright?" he whispered, and she nodded against his chest.

* * *

Harry rarely left Ginny's side after that, and when he was forced to be separated from her, during classes or at night, she was always in his thoughts. But his constant attention made the strain on Ginny more acute than ever as Tom redoubled his efforts to lure her away from Harry and the renewed feelings that she was beginning to have toward him. Harry tried to reassure her that things were under control, but was still wary of letting her know about Ron and Hermione's efforts to find some way to get rid of Tom. Because the truth was, the effort wasn't going very well.

Over the past month, Hermione had gone from confident to unsure to angrily flummoxed at not being able to find a solution to Ginny's problem. She had spent hours in the library, but had discarded every spell, potion, or charm she had found for one reason or another. The depth of the magic that had allowed Tom Riddle to have remained latent in Ginny all this time, coupled by the fact of who it was that was possessing her and the dark magic that he himself was capable of, made any standard spirit-banishing spell ineffective. It was going to take something much stronger than anything they had found so far.

Hermione slammed shut Magic of the Dead, which she had only pulled from the Restricted Section as a last resort, and rubbed her tired eyes. She had been neglecting her own schoolwork and sometimes, when she was very tired, she felt a nagging at the back of her mind as if there was some knowledge that lay just beyond her reach. But when she tried to grasp it, it was gone.

"Ron, I can't look anymore tonight," she sighed. "I haven't even started that essay for Flitwick yet and the rounds schedule needs to be done... I'm sorry, I just don't know where else to look. I know Ginny feels strongly about word of this not getting out, but I think maybe it's time we brought in some other people here. The memory of Tom Riddle may not be as huge a threat as a fully-reborn Voldemort, but I still think Dumbledore would want to know... Ron, are you even listening to me?"

Ron's head had been buried in a book called A History of Love Potions and Why They're a Really Bad Idea. It had been left on the table next to theirs by a group of giggling fourth years and the flashy cover had caught his eye. Flipping through it lazily, he wondered what exactly the moral threshold was of forcing someone to fall in love when suddenly, he looked up from the book with a serious expression.

"Hermione," he said slowly, "what do you know about love potion antidotes?"

"Ron, focus," she said in exasperation. "I'm telling you there's nothing more I can do here. We've got to go to Dumbledore and get some help with this!"

Ron shook his head and stood abruptly, clutching the book in his hands. "I think I know how we can get rid of him."

Ron took off through the library without saying another word, leaving Hermione to stare after him open-mouthed. "Ron!" she whispered loudly, jumping up after him and walking quickly toward the exit, not daring to run in front of Madam Pince. She finally reached the corridor and quickened her pace to catch up with him.

"Where are you going?" she called.

"I have to find Harry." He slipped behind the tapestry concealing the passage that would take him up to the seventh floor. "What if we don't need to find a spell or a potion to fix this? What if we just needed to help Ginny do this herself?"

"Herself?" Hermione questioned, hurrying after him.

Ron burst through the portrait hole and headed straight for Harry, who was sitting on the window seat at the far side of the common room where he could read for Transfiguration and watch the girls' staircase at the same time.

"Where's Ginny?" Ron wanted to know.

"Upstairs," Harry said, looking up from his book. "We were out flying for a while; I thought it would help take her mind off things. We just got back."

"Good," Ron nodded. "Read that." He handed the book to Harry and pointed to a paragraph halfway down the page.

Harry read in silence and when he had finished, looked up at Ron sharply. "Ron, Ginny's a..."

"I know," Ron confirmed. "I just didn't know if you knew."

"Ginny's a what?" Hermione asked.

"That book says that when two souls have been connected together through magic, there are some cases where a Legilicor might be able to use their powers to sever the connection," Ron said.

"So?" Hermione asked.

"A Legilicor is someone who..." Ron began.

"Yes, I know what a Legilicor is," Hermione interrupted, "but what does that have to do with Ginny?"

"Ginny is a Legilicor," Harry said quietly.

"What?!" Hermione stared, completely stunned. Ron handed her the book and she read:

Because of their aptitude for entering into a spiritual union with another soul through emotional connections, the experienced Legilicor is one of the few witches or wizards who possess the power to manipulate or sever these soul-connections without the use of potions or spells.

However, this process requires the Legilicor to enter into a trance whereby the witch or wizard can experience a vicarious communion with the other soul. It is only from within this communion that the soul ties can be broken. The risk can be slight or very great, depending on the willingness of the connected soul to be released from the union.

"Not only is Ginny a Legilicor," Ron said. "She's the best chance we have of getting rid of Tom Riddle once and for all."

* * *

Ginny stood in her room looking out her window, her broomstick still clutched in her hand. Flying around the Quidditch pitch with Harry in the cold twilight had invigorated her. Her fingers twitched against the wooden handle as she thought about the paces Harry had put her through out on the pitch. When he had flown alongside her, his quiet presence had made her feel safe.

"Safe?" Tom asked. "You think that Harry can keep you safe from me?"

"Harry is good, Tom. Good. And I'm safe with him whether you're here or not."

"Yes. Good, noble, righteous. So I've heard," Tom said in a bored tone. "It's a pity that you had to end your flying outing so soon this evening since you were so enjoying it. I could... feel how much you were enjoying it. Wouldn't you like to go out for another spin?"

Ginny looked out the window at the clear night and her fingers twitched again. "Tom, you know that Harry is sitting downstairs. You know he won't let me leave without him."

"No, of course not. Harry is, as you said, good. He's become very attentive lately hasn't he?" Ginny remained silent. "But if you could go flying, it is a beautiful night for it. Unfortunately, you've been confined to your room."

A jolt of indignation shot through Ginny. She was no one's prisoner. Not Tom's, not Harry's, no one's. She pushed open the latch on the tall tower window and climbed onto her desk chair, letting the cold air spill over her face.

"Just a quick turn around the castle," Tom prodded. "No one needs to know. You'll be back in a trice."

Setting her jaw, Ginny squeezed out onto the windowsill with her broom. She stood on the precipice, promising herself that she would only take one loop around the grounds and then come straight back. She missed flying by herself and the feeling of freedom that it gave her.

Behind her, voices sounded in the stairwell and she realized her roommates would be coming through the door at any second. Taking a deep breath, she jumped into the night, streaking off around Gryffindor Tower as fast as her broom could carry her.

* * *

"Ron, this is really amazing, but I don't think that Ginny is under the influence of a love potion," Hermione said skeptically.

"But so what?" Ron reasoned. "The effect is the same, isn't it? Their souls are connected together. Maybe she can use whatever power she has to break it."

Hermione frowned. "I don't know. This says it would take an experienced Legilicor to sever the connection. Is Ginny really that experienced with her powers?" she asked doubtfully. "I didn't even know she had those sorts of powers. Why didn't you ever tell me?"

Ron shrugged. "It never really came up. I mean, it's not something she talks about. I only know because mum told me once. I'm not even sure if she knows how to use them."

"She does," Harry said.

Ron raised his eyebrows. "How do you know?" he asked.

"Um..." Harry cleared his throat. "She's used them on me once or twice." Hermione's eyebrows rose even higher than Ron's. "But I don't think she really knows how to control it yet," Harry said. "It's all pretty new to her."

"Ron," Hermione said, "we need to find out everything we can about Legilicors."

* * *

Ginny flew out over Hogwarts in alternating circles: first over the lake, then around the castle, then shooting out over the cliffs to the water again. The lights of the castle blinked behind her, creating a comforting glow.

"Ginevra, you're getting tired," Tom said after a while. "Perhaps you should rest on the shore for a moment. I wouldn't want you to fall off your broom."

"Don't tell me what to do, Tom," she said tersely.

"It was merely a suggestion," he replied.

But he was right; she was getting tired. To her right, a small, rocky beach could be seen along the edge of the lake and she descended slowly toward it. Touching down, she sat on the ground pulling her cloak around her more tightly.

"You didn't want to see me tonight, I take it?" Tom asked in a seemingly injured tone. "The cave is not far; you could walk there. I do so like to see your face when I talk to you."

"I don't want to see you ever," Ginny said.

"Ginevra, you cut me to the quick. After all, seeing is believing. You believe now that I am real, don't you?"

A cold wind rippled off the water, and Ginny buried her face in her knees to keep warm. "I hate you for doing this to me," she said.

"Hate." Tom mulled the word over with a trace of a smile in his voice. "It is a powerful feeling, isn't it? And yet when I call you, you still come. Love and hatred are not so far apart as you think."

"I do not love you," Ginny spat.

"But my dear girl, you gave yourself to me willingly. Don't you remember? You poured out your soul to me in the pages of a diary, and in return I poured myself into you. What could be more intimate than that?"

"I didn't give myself to you, you bastard, you took me. I was just a child Tom, how could you do that to me?"

Tom sighed, beginning to tire of this game. "You were a means to an end, easy to bend to my wishes. But you are mine now, and I will not let you forget it."

"No," Ginny ground out. "I will never belong to you."

"I am the only one who sees your true beauty," Tom said coldly, "the essence of your soul."

"No," Ginny said, her breath becoming rapid. "No, you're not."

"I am the only one who sees your true potential, the one who can guide you and nurture your deepest ambitions. Do you think that just anyone could have opened the Chamber of Secrets? Once you learned to succumb to me, we did great things together, my dear one. We could have done more if it hadn't been for Dumbledore's meddling. He always did lack the vision he needed to be truly great."

"You're wrong, Tom," Ginny said, gathering courage. "Harry sees who I really am, and he cares about me anyway. And he would never lie to me or try to manipulate me the way you do. Harry loves me," she said boldly, and then added in a less confident tone, "I'm sure he does."

Tom laughed cruelly. "And when Harry is dead, when I succeed in finally ridding the world of the impossible Boy Who Lived? Who will love you then? Love is weak, it is fleeting, a mirage that people use to give meaning to their own pathetic lives." He scoffed. "Look how it has made you lose sight of what you really want, who you really are. It is unacceptable. But you have such passion, Ginevra. Your passion is what will make you strong, what will make us strong together."

"I'm leaving, Tom," Ginny said, standing abruptly. But a searing pain ripped through her head as she did so and forced her back to the ground.

"No," Tom said calmly. "I think you will stay."

* * *

Ron raced with Hermione back to the library and followed her to a section that contained books about telepathic and empathic magic. She knew these stacks better than anyone, and he had to trust that she could lead them in the right direction now that he had opened the door.

Hermione began pulling books off the shelves in rapid succession, handing them to Ron until his arms were full. They were able to check the books out just before the library closed and hurried with them back to the common room, where Harry had resumed his post at the bottom of the stairs. When they arrived, he took one of the books from Ron, and the three of them sat at a small table in the corner and began flipping.

"What are we looking for?" Harry asked.

"Anything," Hermione answered, already scanning indexes. "Anything about Legilicors and soul-connections."

Harry's fingers shook slightly as he turned the pages of Freeing the Mind: A Journey Into the Subconscious and thought of Ginny. Ever since he had learned about her excursions to the cave, something had changed about his feelings for her. Where before he had sought merely to protect her, there was now a deeper longing inside of him to be with her, to be the one she looked to for comfort and strength. And he wanted her to be the one who did that for him, too.

He had tried to do that with Ellie, but it had really always been Ginny who had loved him, who had given herself to him unconditionally even when he had pushed her away. When had it happened? When had Ginny gone from being just Ginny to being the one person he wanted more than anything?

"Hermione," Ron asked, looking up from a book called Reading the Heart, "isn't one of the twelve uses of dragon's blood something about protection?"

Hermione looked at him, thinking intently. "Yes. Dragon's blood can be used either in potions or by itself to fortify a person's natural self-preservation instinct. It's like extra inner-strength."

"So if Ginny were to try and enter some sort of trance with Riddle, dragon's blood could help her become strong enough to break the link? I mean, since she doesn't know how to use her powers very well, she'll need some help, won't she?"

Hermione's brow furrowed in thought. "Yes, that could work in theory. But dragon's blood is hardly ever used that way. The chances of it working are miniscule."

"Why?" Ron asked.

"Because freshly drawn dragon's blood is extremely rare," Hermione answered. "I don't even think Snape has any in his stores. It can last in external applications for months, but if it is to be ingested, it must be drunk within twenty-four hours of being harvested. And since dragons are illegal in Britain, it's nearly impossible to get."

Harry exchanged a glance with Ron, who nodded and turned to Hermione. "I know where we can get some," Ron said, pulling out a sheet of fresh parchment. "Leave that to me."

* * *

Ginny struggled to her feet though her head was throbbing. A sickening chill swept through her as she reached for her broom, and she felt Tom coursing through her veins as if their hearts now beat as one.

"No, Tom. I won't let you!" Ginny closed her eyes and concentrated with all her might on images and feelings that she knew would drive him back into the recesses of her mind: her bedroom at the Burrow; a family dinner; the thrill of catching the Snitch; Harry; Harry kissing her...

But Tom would not be swayed so easily. In place of the memories she threw at him, he reached into his own arsenal and pulled out hatred and fear: the diary; her father lying in St. Mungo's from a near-fatal snake bite; the flash of a Death Eater's curse in the Department of Mysteries; the sight of her own cold body on the Chamber floor. But more than all of these, the one he knew would deal the crushing blow was the sight of Harry's face as time after time he had ignored, rejected, and even been hostile to her, viewing her as no more than an annoyance, an embarrassment.

"If Harry Potter loves you," Tom said cruelly, "then why isn't he here? Why isn't he by your side instead of safely tucked away in Dumbledore's castle with his true friends, the people he truly cares for?"

Ginny felt her eyes prick with tears as she felt the blackness of Tom's words closing in on her. But deep inside, she could see a spark of light still shining faintly within her, and as she focused on it, it grew brighter and brighter until she could grab hold of it.

"I don't care if he loves me or not," Ginny said in a low voice. "I would still do anything for him; I would give my life for him. And you can't take that away from me."

The light was so strong in Ginny now that she could feel Tom trying unsuccessfully to break through it. She hung onto it for dear life as the sweat beaded on her forehead, and her hands shook as she clutched the broom handle and swung her leg over it.

"I'll kill you before I let you get away from me, Ginevra," Tom said in a cold fury.

Through her haze, she opened her eyes and looked for the lights of the castle. Clenching her teeth, she said, "Try it," and kicked off the ground hard, speeding away across the lake.

* * *

"You know where we can get freshly harvested dragon's blood?" Hermione boggled.

Ron finished writing a note on his parchment and stood hastily, rolling it into a tight scroll. "Charlie," he said simply.

Hermione stood with her mouth agape. "Ron, Charlie's in Romania. Even if we could get an owl there and back in twenty-four hours, harvesting dragon's blood is extremely difficult! Charlie would have to get permission from the Romanian Ministry, not to mention the actual harvesting process itself!"

"Hermione, Charlie knows about Ginny," Harry said, backing up Ron's plan. "And if we tell him that this is her best chance at beating Riddle, he's not going to let some Ministry protocol stand in his way."

Ron turned to Hermione. His jaw was set but his eyes sought her approval. "Trust me," he said softly. "This is going to work."

She held his eyes and he saw her shoulders relax slightly. "Of course I trust you," she said softly.

"Ron, send Hedwig," Harry said. "She's faster than Pig."

Ron nodded and he and Hermione prepared to leave for the owlery when they were suddenly brought up short.

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry looked up to see Ginny standing at the entrance to the room. Her hair was damp and her face white. She was shivering, but it was the look of horror and pain in her eyes that made Harry's heart stop. He looked to the girls' staircase and back at Ginny in confusion; how had she gotten out of her room? Ron and Hermione stared open-mouthed as Ginny dropped her broom near the fireplace and made her way over to Harry.

"I..." She brought her arms up and hugged herself, glancing nervously at her brother. "I need you." She looked Harry in the eye and pleaded with him silently. He dropped his book and stood without hesitation as Ginny turned and headed for the portrait hole with no further explanation.

Harry followed, holding up his hand to stop Ron from coming after them. "It's okay, go get Hedwig," he said, taking quick strides across the room.

"How did she..." Ron barked, incredulous.

"Ron," Hermione said, putting a hand on his arm, "Harry's got her; she'll be alright. Let's just go, we don't have much time."

* * *

Harry climbed through the portrait hole and followed her around a corner into the old Gryffindor storage room. As soon as the portrait closed behind him, he reached out for her, but she stepped back and her head shook as if she were afraid for him to come any nearer.

"What happened? You were with him again, weren't you? How did you get out? Why didn't you come get me?" Harry asked, a note of panic creeping into his voice.

She ignored his questions. He wasn't even sure if she had heard them. "Harry," she began, "I need you to tell me something."

"What is it? Ask me anything."

"Tell me I'm beautiful."

Harry went blank for a moment. This was not what he had been expecting. Here she was, obviously reeling from something horrible, shivering, looking like she might collapse, and she was concerned about how she looked? But then, an image sprung to his mind of Christmas at the Burrow, when he had kissed her. The taste of her lips, the smell of her hair, her eyes so close that he could see the fear and confusion in them.

When he looked at her again, he understood that this was not about his feelings for her. This was about what she needed from him right now. He needed to be strong and calm, just as she had been for him that night at the top of the Astronomy Tower. He walked toward her slowly, not wanting to frighten her.

"Ginny, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. You take my breath away."

She closed her eyes, drawing comfort from him. "Tell me I'm a good person."

He moved closer until he was right in front of her, but still he didn't touch her. "You are courageous and strong, and I would trust you with my life. You are the 'goodest' person I know."

She opened her eyes and looked up into his face, searching. "Tell me you love me."

Harry would have said anything at that moment to take away the pain and anguish in her eyes. But as he formed the words, he suddenly knew that not only did he have to tell her this for her own sake, but that he believed it in his own heart as well. This wasn't like what he had felt for Ellie. With her, he had wanted to be sure, had wanted to get it right before laying his heart out, only to have it broken and handed back to him in pieces. But looking into Ginny's eyes now, there was no uncertainty. He knew. He had given his heart to her months ago and she had kept it safe for him until exactly this moment, waiting for him to understand that she was the only one who could love every part of him, whether it was good or bad, whether he was the Boy Who Lived or just plain Harry.

He took her shivering face in his hands. "When you're near me, I never want you to leave. And when we're apart, I think about you all the time. I can't imagine my life without you in it," he said, his face full of emotion. "I love you completely."

Ginny's eyes closed again and her head sank into Harry's chest. She clutched onto his robes to keep herself upright. "Thank you," she sighed as her tears finally came, staining Harry's shirt. He felt her legs buckle and put his arms around her to support her weight as she sank to the floor. She curled over her knees, forehead touching the floor, taking deep breaths and murmuring to herself. Harry strained to hear what she was saying.

"Did you hear that, Tom? He loves me. He loves me." She repeated it over and over. Harry leaned over her protectively, hugging her shoulders until her breathing quieted.

When she was silent, he lifted her up to look at him. "Can you tell me what happened?"

They remained on the floor as Ginny told him about her encounter with Tom. Harry's heart sped up as he listened, filling with shock and anger. Ginny shook as she talked and when she was finished, he gathered her in his arms and held her tight.

"He'll never do this to you again, Gin, I swear it."

Ginny shook her head in resignation. "He's in me, there's nothing you can do."

"I won't. I won't let him do this to you."

"Shh. Just hold me." Ginny pressed her cheek against Harry, feeling the thumping in his chest. As the minutes passed, she felt the tension in his muscles relax and his heartbeat return to normal.

"Harry?" she ventured.

"Yes?" he said, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

"I'm sorry I made you say those things. That wasn't fair." She pulled away and looked up at him.

He shook his head. "I meant it."

"Yes, but I shouldn't have forced you to say it like that. I just really needed to hear it."

"I know," he said, reaching out to touch her cheek. "But I meant every word. I just didn't realize how much until I said it out loud."

"Do you really love me?" she asked, feeling his emotions swirling around her, but not sure if she should let herself believe it.

"Yes, don't you feel it?" he said as he leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "I love you." He kissed her cheek. "I love you." Then he took her mouth fully onto his, moving his hands through her hair and pulling her closer.

Ginny felt his warmth spread through her to her fingers and toes. Her heart swelled with happiness as she drank him in, clutching his strong arms. When they broke apart, she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, "I love you, too."

* * *

A/N: Finally! Our hero and heroine are together at last. They still have a big struggle ahead of them, but now they can face it together. And there was much rejoicing in the land. Hope you all have a safe and Happy New Year!